


Ordinary World

by SkyMaster



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - 21st Century, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Always Female Kirk, Fem!Kirk, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyMaster/pseuds/SkyMaster
Summary: What would you wish if you saw a shooting starIn an ordinary world~Jane Kirk isn’t quite sure what to do with the alien that crash landed in her backyard. After successfully hiding him from a shadowy government organization investigating the crash, Kirk believes her wish for something extraordinary to enter her world has finally come true. However when said shadowy government organization just won’t leave town, the solution seems pretty obvious: a summer road trip for the ages.Spock hadn’t intended for the disagreement with his father to get so out of hand. Now stranded on an alien planet, he must rely on the kindness and hospitality of the humans that have taken him in to navigate this new world. Although a “super-summer-road-trip-extravaganza”, as his host puts it, seems excessive, it would be illogical not to observe as much as he can of this planet that has him so conflicted.





	1. The Impromptu Patient

**Author's Note:**

> Well here goes nothing.
> 
> So a couple months back I saw [this](http://gayhura.tumblr.com/post/153382559908/i-cant-explain-how-much-i-want-a-21st-century) post on Tumblr, and some of the added comments, and got really inspired. I'm pretty rusty in the writing department and I may have bitten off more than I can chew here, but I'm willing to give this my best shot. I'm already working on the next chapter and have a rough idea of where I want to take the story. I'll probably add tags and characters as the story progresses; don't want to give away everything after all.
> 
> Also fair warning, and it's also in the tags, but Kirk in this will be female and is the only (currently planned) gender swapped character. Also possibly worth noting is this won't really be romance focused.
> 
> This chapter might be a bit graphic. I promise the fluffy stuff is on its way.

Leonard McCoy was woken abruptly from a dreamless sleep by the sound of a jackhammer somewhere nearby.  At least, that’s the first scenario his sleep idled brain provided him.  He looked around the room as he regained his senses.  It seemed he had fallen asleep in the living room again, his television having turned itself off at some point in the night. What time was it?  McCoy looked towards the windows, not seeing any sunlight coming through them.

The banging started up again. Not a jackhammer; someone was at the door.

“Bones! Open up!”

And there was only one someone who ever called him Bones.

Groaning, McCoy felt around blindly for a moment until he found the switch for the nearest lamp and turned it on. Taking a second to adjust to the light, he looked at the watch still on his wrist: 3:18 AM.

More banging. “Bones get your ass up! Emergency!” It occurred to McCoy that it sounded more like his unexpected guest was kicking the door rather than knocking. Either way, it was equally irritating.

“Dammit kid, keep your hair on, I’m coming,” he called out. He yawned and readjusted his robe a bit, before making his way toward the door. He undid the three locks and pulled the door open to greet his younger friend.

He opened his mouth to say something but was apparently too slow in his greeting.

“Grab your med kit,” she said as she pushed her way in carrying…something on her back. Something big.  It took McCoy a moment to process the intrusion.

“Come on in,” McCoy said dryly, to no one in particular.

Really he should be used to this. Jane Kirk, a family friend, was infamous for coming over unannounced to engage in ‘adventures’, which ranged from getting fast food at 11:00 at night to simply walking around town discussing nothing in particular. Tonight it seemed she had brought the ‘adventure’ with her, though he had never known her to disturb him so late.

She made a beeline for the small dining room area, not even bothering with the light. “Jane, do you know what time it is?” McCoy asked her, as she slowly set down her strange package.  “What are you even doing up this late?”

“Told you, emergency,” she replied quickly. She finally looked up at him. “Don’t just stand there, get your med stuff!” She sounded flustered and out of breath.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” She shook her head.

“No, not me.” She gestured toward the ‘something’ she had brought in.

No, not some _thing_ , McCoy suddenly realized with a jolt. _Someone_.

The realization was enough to spring him into action. Kirk was already working to clear the dining room table, so McCoy rushed to grab his measly med kit, offhandedly trying to remember the last time he had restocked it.  Dammit, why was she always dragging him into her fiascos?

He came back in and found Kirk clearing the last of the knick-knacks off the table. “Help me get him up here,” she directed him.

He did as she instructed, grabbing the apparently unconscious (and surprisingly heavy) stranger under his arms while Kirk grabbed his legs; his still partially asleep mind trying to process what was happening. As the reality of the situation started seeping in, more and more questions started popping up.

“Jane,” McCoy asked slowly as they got him settled on the table, “who is this?”

Kirk hesitated before answering, not quite looking him in the eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then can I at least know why you’re banging on my door at this unholy hour instead of taking them to, oh I don’t know, a hospital?”

In the darkness, McCoy could see her glancing at him.

“I don’t think they can help him there,” she replied, and reached out for the light switch. As the room brightened, McCoy took his first look at his impromptu patient.

He was young, perhaps early twenties like Kirk, with dark, oddly cut hair, angular brows, and a strange looking tunic. There appeared to be something metallic sticking out from the lower left side of his stomach, the area damp with what McCoy had to assume was blood, though it seemed to have an odd coloring to it.

It took a second for McCoy to understand what Kirk was talking about, but as he continued to look over the young man he saw it.

The ears; the ears were unnaturally pointed.

He turned back to ask Kirk if this was some sick attempt at a practical joke, but was taken aback by the strange green stains on her clothes and on her face. He took another look at the wound, finally registering why it had a strange tint to it: the stranger’s blood was green.

“My God, Jane,” he muttered, more to himself then to her.  Kirk looked down, apparently only now noticing the stains. She didn’t seem as phased by them as he did.

“Bones please, you have to help him, he’s hurt. He’s hurt bad.”

“Jane, I- I mean- What am I looking at here? What is that?” He gestured to her stained clothes. “What is _he_?”

“He’s a patient, and you’re a doctor!” she snapped.

McCoy blinked. Kirk also seemed surprised by her own outburst, and took a slow breath before continuing.

“Leonard,” she said slowly, “I’m guessing this guy has already had a pretty rough night, and judging by that piece of debris still shoved into his abdomen it’s about to get rougher.  If you can’t put the questions on hold soon, he is going to bleed to death right here.” She looked up to him, pleading. “Now will you please help him?”

McCoy held her gaze for a moment, seeing the familiar spark in her eye that she got when she was determined to get her way. She only ever used his given name when she was serious. _Deadly serious_ , his brain provided, which in no way helped ease his apprehension. He gave the stranger another look over, mentally assessing the situation.  Then he turned back to Kirk, having switched gears from half asleep to full doctor mode.

“Alright, go into to my bedroom; find me a pair of scissors and one of my leather belts.”  Kirk gave a quick nod and immediately ran to the other room; meanwhile McCoy grabbed his patient’s arm, putting his fingers on his wrist. The pulse felt fast and erratic. Wonderful. He lowered the arm and began to rummage around the kit he had brought out, looking for the other supplies he’d need.

Gauze, he needed gauze, where the _hell_ was the gauze?

Kirk returned with the requested items, handing them to McCoy.  He took the scissors and turned toward his patient.

“Hang on to that belt for now,” he told her, and began to cut the tunic from the bottom upwards. Thankfully the material was not terribly thick, and soon he was able to peel away the clothing to get a better look at what he was dealing with.

The wound looked bad, green blood (McCoy was still trying to wrap his head around that) still oozing from the point of impact. “You shouldn’t have moved him,” he told Kirk, “should’ve let me come to you.”

“I know, I know, I- I panicked. Everything happened so fast. Besides, you don’t exactly have a phone right now.”

“I have a home phone.”

“ _Had_ a home phone. It’s been disconnected for weeks now, you didn’t notice?”

“…Guess that might explain why the sales calls stopped. Thought I just finally scared them off.”

McCoy looked in the med kit one last time before tossing it aside, muttering a curse. Of course the things he actually needed weren’t there. Typical.

“Bones, I know that look; what’s wrong?” McCoy took a breath before answering.

“I don’t have gauze.”

“Okay, can’t we just use a shirt or something?”

“With the amount of blood he’s probably already lost it won’t be that simple. With gauze I can wrap it tight and would keep him from bleeding out. Anything else would just absorb the blood and he’ll just bleed out faster.”  The patient already looked deathly pale, though McCoy had no frame of reference to know if that was normal for him or not. Kid could be a damn vampire for all he knew.

He took another breath, thinking through his options. He had to seal the wound somehow. Suddenly and idea dawned on him, and though it wasn’t an idea he liked, it may just save the patient’s life.

“I’ll be right back, don’t touch that shard.”

He walked around and entered the garage, making his way toward his old work bench. He hoped he still had the tool he had in mind. God help him, he didn’t want to do this, but maybe the patient would stay unconscious through it. He hoped so.

After a bit of rummaging he found what he came for, and made his way back to the dining room. Kirk, who had been looking at the patient with a concerned look on her face, looked up as he came back in. He took some disinfectant from his kit and wiped the tip of the tool. He then plugged the tool into the nearest socket and set it on the table.

“Bones,” Kirk started, a bit apprehensively, “what is that?”

“It’s a soldering iron.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it was. Why did you bring out your soldering iron?”

“Because,” McCoy sighed, “the second I pull that shard, he’s gonna start bleeding out even quicker, if his heart rate’s anything to go by. Bottom line: If we don’t take it out, he’s gonna die; but if we take it out and I can’t stop the bleeding, he’s also gonna die. It ain’t gonna be pretty, or painless, but it should seal it long enough so I can drive down to the supply store in the morning and pick up some actual medical supplies.”

Now that he’d actually spoken it out loud, he realized how crazy it sounded. His gut told him it should work in theory, but come on, a soldering iron? This entire plan was completely insane.

“Okay.”

McCoy’s train of thought was derailed at Kirk’s response. “‘Okay?’ Uh, Jane look, I know I sounded like I knew what I was talking about there for a second, but honestly I’ve never done this before. Not like this. I mean- maybe I can think of some-“

“Bones, it’ll work,” she interjected. “I trust your instincts.”

McCoy was taken aback by his friend’s faith in him. He let out a quipped chuckle. “Well, I guess that makes one of us.” That seemingly settled, he reached toward the patient and started tentatively feeling the wound.

“What are you doing now?”

“Making sure this thing comes out the same way it came in. Odds are you inadvertently twisted it around a bit when you brought him here, and he doesn’t need to be sliced up any more than he already is.” He began adding slight pressure to the skin surrounding the puncture, looking for any abnormalities. Sure enough, part of it wasn’t lining up quite right. “Okay, I’m going to have to twist this back a bit. We can thank our lucky stars that it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

With steady hands McCoy grabbed the shard and began twisting slowly, lining it up with the wound. This action seemed to elicit the first real response from the patient, who flinched at the movement and groaned, his eyes beginning to flutter open. _Damn_ , McCoy thought. He was really hoping he wouldn’t be awake for this.

Kirk moved toward the patient’s side as he seemed to be taking in his surroundings. “Hey, easy buddy, easy,” she encouraged, as his eyes found hers. “You remember me?” She brought up her hand as though she was waving, but instead made a V shape between her middle and ring fingers. The patient merely blinked at her, eyes still a bit unfocused, until his attention was drawn towards the doctor, his hands still on the shard. He jolted upright on reflex, letting out a clipped cry at the pain it caused him.

“Jane, get him to lie back down, I need him to hold still,” McCoy ordered.

“Can’t you give him something for the pain?” she asked as she gently pushed down on his shoulder, encouraging him to lie back.

“Well, I may still be a bit foggy on the details, but I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he ain’t exactly human; and if that’s the case, then there’s no tellin’ what kind of affects a damn aspirin will have on him, much less anything stronger.”

The patient was looking back and forth between them as they talked, but did lay back a bit. He reached out to Kirk.

“Ra shi nam-tor nash?” He sounded tired, but McCoy supposed a gaping hole in your gut would have that effect on anyone, human or otherwise.

“Uh, Jane, you got any clue what he just said?” Kirk shook her head.

“No idea; pretty sure he doesn’t understand us either.”

“Well maybe that’s a good thing; they say it hurts less when it’s a surprise anyway.” Satisfied that he’d arranged the shard as best he could, McCoy wiped his hands on his robe absentmindedly and reached for the iron. “You still got that belt?”

“Yeah, I was about to ask about that actually.”

“Fold it in half a couple times, then get him to bite down on it.” Kirk looked at him like _he_ had just grown pointy ears. “It’s either that or run the risk of him chewing off his own tongue.” At that she almost looked like she would be sick, but she did as he instructed.

“…This is gonna be bad isn’t it,” she stated, almost a whisper. It hadn’t been a question. McCoy felt a pang of regret that she even had to see anything like this, but he knew he couldn’t do this alone.

“Jane, if you want me to help him, I’m gonna need you to try and keep him calm.” _And keep him from jumping off the table the second we start_ , he thought to himself. Kirk gave a quick nod and turned to the patient, folding the belt and bringing it towards his face. Unfortunately what McCoy needed him to do didn’t seem to register for him, only offering a confused expression toward Kirk.

“Come on, open up,” she said, mostly out of frustration.

“Ri tor ken-tor,” the patient spoke up again, for all the good it did. Kirk sighed, looking at him a lot like she did when she was attempting to play an especially complex chess strategy.

“Okay,” she started, apparently having formed an idea, “let’s try it like this. You,” she pointed at him, “need to put this,” she pointed at the folded over belt, “like this,” and she demonstrated biting down on it. “Now, take two.” At first this display only seemed to confuse him more, merely blinking dazedly at her. Graciously though he appeared to be a fast learner, this time accepting the belt in the way she had mimicked.

McCoy watched the scene play out while he discretely tested out the iron on the back of a nearby chair, keeping it out of the patient’s sight. It seemed ready; though McCoy wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself.

“Bones?” Kirk was giving him an apprehensive look. “I think he’s about as ready as he’ll ever be.”

“Alright, ‘suppose there’s no point in putting it off any more.” McCoy moved towards the patient’s left side. “Just try and…just try to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself any worse than he is already.” Kirk nodded and stood at the patient’s other side, putting her had in his. The patient gave her another odd look, but didn’t seem to protest further. His eyes flew to McCoy however, when he began to move into position. He tried to shift backwards.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about that,” Kirk said, trying to draw attention away from the doctor. “Don’t look at him, look at me.” Although unable to understand, her words seemed to have the desired effect, the patient shifting his focus onto Kirk. She touched his shoulder reassuringly and squeezed his hand a bit. “That’s it, just keep your eyes on me, you’re gonna be fine.”

McCoy put his hand on the shard, the iron standing by in his other hand. “Keep it up Jane, here we go.” Kirk gave a quick nod of indication, but kept her attention on the patient.

“Easy does it, just breathe-”

“On the count of three-“

“-you’re doing great, just-“

“-one-”

“-keep your eyes on me-”

“-two-”

“-I’ve got you-”

“-three-”

The mood shifted in a matter of seconds. McCoy yanked the shard with surgical precision. The patient went stiff with tension, eyes going wide. McCoy tossed the shard away quickly and brought the iron to the patient’s skin. Once he began the one thing he feared was going to happen occurred.

The patient began to jerk wildly, instinctively trying to distance himself from the pain. The noise that came from his mouth probably would have been a scream had it not been muffled by the belt. The whole table began to shake, and McCoy was having a hard time conducting the very delicate procedure.

“Dammit Jane, keep him still!” he yelled out. Kirk awkwardly tried to throw her weight over the patient’s chest in an attempt to keep him still, though it seemed she was either unwilling to let go of his hand or she was unable to.

“I’m- _ack_ -I’m trying!” she gasped. “This guy’s a fucking bull!”

McCoy only stopped momentarily when his brain went ‘ _to hell with it_ ’ and in an adrenaline filled move hoisted himself up onto the table and physically straddled the patient’s legs in an attempt to keep him still. He noticed that even with his entire weight on them he could barely keep them still. He glanced up at Kirk for a moment to see she was having similar luck keeping him still, but he kept going with his work. He would not lose a patient.

Not again.

The patient was still screaming and not for the first time that night McCoy gave thanks that he didn’t have any neighbors that lived too close; one of the perks of living in a small town. Kirk was still trying to hold him down, practically lying on top of him. McCoy heard her saying under her breath ‘It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay’ out loud like a mantra, though was unsure if it was directed at the patient or was just a way of reassuring herself.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The patient’s movements became sluggish and halfhearted, the screams only coming out in groans. Finally McCoy felt the patient jerk one more time before his whole body became limp again; whether dead or unconscious he couldn’t say for sure just yet, but he continued regardless.

“Alright, I think that should do it,” he said a few moments later, setting aside the iron and hoisting himself off the table. How it had managed to hold the combined weight of three people was beyond him. _Never thought I’d be thanking God for Ikea_ , he though absentmindedly.

“Is he alive?” Kirk asked, also stepping away, pulling McCoy from his thoughts. Good question. He grabbed the patient’s wrist and once again felt for a pulse. He found it was a bit slower than it had been earlier (again not really knowing if that was a good or bad sign) but it was a definitive heartbeat.

“Seems like it,” he answered, “least for now.”

Kirk nodded, giving the patient a contemplative look. “Okay, good, you got it from here then?”

“Yeah, I got- _wait what_?”

Kirk turned back to him. “There’s something I’ve gotta check out real quick.”

“Now wait just a damn minute,” he started as she moved past him, “you come barging down my door with a half-dead stranger in tow, oozing _green_ of all things, and you’re just gonna leave him on my dining room table?”

“I’ll come right back, but I need to get back before the cops seal it off,” she continued as she made her way to the door, seemingly ignoring his concern.

“ _Cops_? Jane, what the hell did you get mixed up in?”

“I’ll be gone thirty minutes, max,” she went on, and before he could protest further she was out the door.

McCoy stood dumbstruck in his living room for a few seconds. A quick look down at his hands and robe assured him that, yes, the past few moments had indeed been real; he was covered in green…ooze? Blood? Hell if he knew.

It was eerily quiet as he backtracked to the kitchen and turned on the sink. _Deadly quiet_ , his brain supplied. He audibly groaned as he finished washing up. Why did his inner thoughts have to be so damn morbid?

He took a wet rag back with him into the dining room to clean off the patient with. He spent the next few minutes with busy work to keep himself grounded: cleaning the now drying bodily fluids, getting rid of the ruined tunic, and retrieving an old pillow from his closet for the patient’s head. Once done with that he changed into fresh clothes and marched into the kitchen.

He put on a pot of coffee, and it had just finished brewing when he heard the front door open and close again.

“I’m back,” Kirk announced, panting as she came into the kitchen to meet McCoy. She had a backpack slung over her shoulder. “Is that coffee? Bones, you’re my hero.”

“Oh, no you don’t, not until you get cleaned up,” he ordered. “You look like you got into a hit-and-run with a leprechaun.” Kirk frowned and examined herself. She was still covered in green, and was now also drenched in sweat. “You can borrow some of my clothes; I’ll start a load of laundry. Unless you think we should be burning this toxic sludge.”

“I’m sure the laundry will be fine. Can I use your shower?”

Ten minutes later Kirk plopped down on the couch, coffee in hand, now sporting one of McCoy’s old t-shirts and flannel pajama bottoms, both oversized on her smaller frame. McCoy got the laundry started and went to sit next to her, setting his own mug on the coffee table.

“Right then,” he started, “mind telling me what the hell you’ve gotten me into now?”

Kirk nursed her coffee. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Oh, let’s start with something simple. How about: Who or what is knocking on death’s door on my dining room table?”

“You sure you want the answer to that?” She turned to look him in the eye.

“Jane, if you don’t give me a straight answer in the next two seconds I swear to-”

“He’s an alien.”

McCoy blinked as the statement sunk in. “At least, I’m pretty sure he is,” Kirk followed up. “I found him when his ship crashed, and came right here.”

“Okay,” McCoy said finally, “why don’t you start at the beginning, and I’ll see if I can follow. Namely, how in the hell does some ‘alien’ manage to crash land in your backyard?”

“Well, there’s not a whole lot to tell really, but if you’re gonna be pushy about it, I guess it all started with a lunch date.”


	2. The X-Files Addict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk just wanted something exciting to enter her life. She didn't think her wish would be granted quite so literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitch.
> 
> So yeah I actually managed to get the second chapter out. I'm as shocked as you are believe me. Partially because this ended up being a bit longer than I initially anticipated but hey it's whatever.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that commented and left kudos, every little bit is extremely encouraging!!
> 
> I don't think I mentioned this in my last notes so just FYI I don't have a beta for this; the entire thing as of now is entirely me. I'm editing where I can but like for this chapter I literally just finished it and posted it on here w/o much editing. What I'm getting at is constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged; anything from a glaringly obvious typo to narrative advice.

**16 Hours Before Impact**

“So…its aliens, right?”

“Kirk, just because I can’t figure out what it says right off the bat _doesn’t mean its aliens_.”

Kirk shuffled her feet childishly at that. She was sitting opposite Nyota Uhura, who was currently examining the contents on Kirk’s self-supped-up tablet, which Kirk had dubbed the Personal Alien Detector and Data-holder, or PADD for short. The two of them had known each other since high school, but with Uhura always busy in the college circuit they had only now been able to see each other in person.

The girls had met up at Murphy’s, which was the only decent place to eat that wasn’t a fast food chain in their small town. They were seated in a booth towards the back of the diner, with only a few other tables currently occupied. While Kirk was often very vocal about how boring a non-tourist-small-town life could be, one of the perks was getting into the place with arguably the best food in the state (and Kirk would swear to that) without crowds out the door.

“But, it could be, right?” Kirk countered, not wanting to give up hope just yet. “Look at it Uhura, have you even seen anything like this before?”

“For all I know, you cooked this up yourself and this is all some belated April Fool’s Day prank.”

Kirk gave Uhura her best innocent look. “You really think I would do that to you?”

“Without hesitation.”

Kirk clutched her heart dramatically. “You wound me.” Uhura only raised an eyebrow. Kirk smiled and dropped her hands. “Okay, admittedly a prank like this is not too far outside the realm of possibilities for me, but I swear to you I didn’t make this up.” She raised her right hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Didn’t you get kicked out of the scouts?”

“ _Bottom line_ ,” she pressed, “is that sure, I _could_ fiddle with some coding and make a passable otherworldly-ish transmission, but this,” she gestured toward the PADD, “these swirly things? It’s a bit too elaborate for my taste.”

Uhura examined the information on the screen again, seemingly deciding to give Kirk the benefit of the doubt for now. Kirk drummed her hands on the table along with the song playing from the jukebox across the room as Uhura looked over the information again: _Last of the American Girls_ , one of Kirk’s favorites.

 _She's a runaway of the establishment incorporated_  
She won't cooperate  
She's the last of the American girls

“It looks like some kind of calligraphy, but it’s not in any language I’m familiar with,” Uhura stated after a moment. “When’d you say you started receiving this again?”

“Couple days ago; it was a bit weak at first, but it’s been getting progressively stronger since then, and last night was the strongest transmission yet. I was able to save this bit that you’re looking at.” Kirk couldn’t help the excitement in her voice. “It’s like whatever’s sending it is getting closer every day.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t tap into some military satellite transmission by mistake?”

“Why? Are you gonna come pay my bail when the Men in Black lock me away in Area 51?” Kirk asked, giving a playful smile. Uhura just sighed.

“Why can’t you grow up and be dead inside like the rest of us?”

Kirk’s grin only widened. “Where’d be the fun in that? Now, are you gonna help me, or am I gonna have to go find some other equally brilliant and gorgeous linguistics expert in this godforsaken town?”

Kirk watched eagerly as Uhura appeared to be mulling it over. Admittedly it would’ve been far too easy to create some kind of faked ‘transmission’ for her friend to translate. She was almost sorry she hadn’t actually thought of it for April Fool’s Day like Uhura had insinuated; though if she had there wouldn’t have been a chance in hell of getting her friend’s help now, so maybe that was for the best.

“Alright fine,” Uhura conceded, handing the PADD back and picking up a menu, “send me a copy, I’ll see what I can do; but _only_ because I’ve got nothing else going on right now.”

Kirk slipped the PADD back into her messenger bag. “You are a goddess amongst us mere mortals,” she praised theatrically.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re lucky you’re cute,” Uhura responded dryly, not looking up from her menu.

“Alright you hooligans, what’ll it be?” Kirk looked up to the older blonde waitress that had approached their table, giving them a familiar smile.

“Just a sec mom,” Kirk replied, “I was just showing Uhura my findings last night.”

“Ah, yes, the ‘space chatter’ you mentioned this morning,” Winona Kirk said in an amused tone, “well you be sure to tell Han Solo he’s welcome to fly by anytime.”

“Mother, for some odd reason I have the most persistent sense that you don’t actually take my work seriously.”

“What? No,” Winona replied in her best-worst Mark Wahlberg impression. She chuckled and Uhura smirked at the look it earned from Kirk. “I’m sorry Jane, it’s just a bit…fantastic is all; but being the supportive parent that I am, if you really think it’s something I’ll try and keep an open mind.”

“Thanks mom, I appreciate it,” Kirk said dryly.

“Watching you two bond never ceases to amuse me,” Uhura observed.

“Hey, we aim to entertain,” Winona replied. “Know what you want yet?”

“Do you think I could just get the house salad, Win?”

“Sure thing Nyota.” Winona jotted down the order and turned to Kirk, “and for you, o’ daughter of mine?” Kirk took a quick look at the menu before answering.

“Could you hook me up with this deluxe burger lunch special thing?” She pointed to a spot on the menu detailing the special.

“…Jane, that’s for two people.”

“I thought you wanted to be a supportive parent.”

Winona rolled her eyes, but wrote down the order anyway. “Alright, shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

Kirk turned back to Uhura as her mother walked back to the kitchen. “So, do you think we’re dealing with _Close Encounters_ aliens, or more along the lines of _Independence Day_?”

“First of all,” Uhura started, “there is no ‘we’; I’m doing you a solid, not sharing your delusions of grandeur. Find someone else to be your Scully.”

“But you’re so good at it.”

“ _Secondly_ ,” she continued, “I’m still not convinced you’re even dealing with anything remotely supernatural here.”

Kirk huffed and slumped back in her seat. “Okay, hypothetically speaking then,” she suggested, “what do you think: E.T., or Xenomorph?”

Uhura only shrugged. “I really don’t know, if you’re so curious why don’t you just respond to the signal and ask the ‘aliens’ yourself?”

Kirk blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Come on Kirk, I thought you were supposed to be a genius. Hypothetically, if you’re receiving a signal being sent out by some UFO, then maybe it’s looking for a response?”

Kirk contemplated this for a moment. Had she really been so wrapped up in finding and translating the signal that she had missed the obvious? “I guess I could try- wait, how am I supposed to respond if I have no idea what it says? Hypothetically of course,” she added.

“If I were to give a hypothetical suggestion on how to respond to a hypothetical alien signal, I’d probably start with something simple and universal, at least on earth, like Morse code. That is, of course, hypothetically speaking.”

“Of course,” Kirk agreed, “completely hypothetical.”

~ ~ ~

After spending a few more hours with her friend around the town, Kirk biked towards the local thrift store to pick up a few new supplies to put her new plan in action, still buzzing from her conversation with Uhura. This was the closest she had ever been to actual contact. Those signals _had_ to be extra-terrestrial, right? Admittedly she had gotten her hopes up once before after picking up a strange audio signal that ended up just being the local radio station; her PADD had misinterpreted the noise at first and it had come through sounding like garbled speech. No, this time she was sure the signal was real, and tonight she would make contact.

Kirk parked her bike in front of the thrift store on the curb and walked in, not bothering to chain it up. _No need for that in this town_ , Kirk mused. She opened the door and was greeted immediately by the chilled air conditioning and that specific grounded scent you could only get in a second-hand store. Though technically a ‘thrift store’, the local shop also had a small variety of imported food and drink that you couldn’t get anywhere else in town.

She walked further in to see Thomas Garrovick, the owner, and his son David busy moving items around on the shelves. “Reorganizing the place again, old man?” she called out, “It’s a miracle anyone finds anything in here.”

Garrovick turned to face her, giving her a smile once he saw who it was. The guy had to be in his sixties at least, but he didn’t seem to age past his late thirties in Kirk’s eyes. His chestnut colored hair had nary a gray streak, the only real sign of his age being a slowly receding hair line.

Kirk had worked the store through her high school years, and while Garrovick himself was a great boss to have, Kirk wanted a chance to branch out and try other jobs. Once her father passed away, ‘other jobs’ ended up consisting of taking care of the farmland left to her and her mother and perusing her own personal hobbies in her free time.

“Gotta keep folks on their toes now, don’t I?” Garrovick replied as he walked up to greet her. “You looking for anything in particular this time?”

“Particular? Nah,” Kirk dismissed, “just here to raid your electronics section as per usual.” She turned to the younger Garrovick. “How’s it going Dave?”

David gave a vague shrug. “Alright I guess,” he mumbled, turning back to his work. David, who had inherited his father’s chestnut hair and steely grey eyes, was about six years Kirk’s younger, and could be painfully shy most of the time; this made his friendship with the high school’s resident trouble-maker, a lovable brat by the name Kevin Riley, all the more baffling.

Kirk made her way towards the back of the store where the elder Garrovick kept the second-hand electronics. Most of the devices she was using to pick up the space chatter had originally been found here, after which she would repurpose herself. She dug through various items for a bit until she found a few that fit her purposes. As she made her up one of the aisles to pay, she passed a shelf with some kind of small, fuzzy brown fabric with what looked like a unicorn horn and antenna sticking out. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a bizarre dog outfit; someone must have made it custom and donated it for whatever reason. And it also appeared to be just the size of Kirk’s own dog.

Now, what kind of an idiot would pass up an opportunity like that? She added it to her haul.

Garrovick met her at the register. “That gonna be it for today?” he asked as she placed her items down for him to ring up.

“Not unless you got some supercomputer in the back you’ve been hiding from me.”

Garrovick laughed at that. “Don’t I wish; reckon it’d make my job mighty easy.” He began entering Kirk’s items into the computer manually. “You get anything for your mom yet? Mother’s Day is in just a few days.”

Kirk looked up at him in alarm. Was it really time for Mother’s Day already? She glanced around the store for anything that could give her an idea, and smiled when she found an easy solution towards the front of the store.

“Just a sec,” she told Garrovick as she walked over toward the small display of assorted wine bottles on display in a very small liquor section she had originally helped Garrovick set up while working there a few years prior. She looked over the bottles until she found a brand her mother liked and brought it up with the rest of her haul. Garrovick raised an eyebrow.

“You got ID for that kiddo?”

Kirk smiled as she pulled out her wallet. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said as she removed her driver’s license for him to see, “and I’ll have you know I’ve been of legal drinking age for almost two months now.”

“Two months? Where does the time go?” He shook his head as he rung up her items, “seems only yesterday George was rolling you up and down these aisles in a stroller with your brother trailing behind. Speaking of which, how is that brother of yours?”

“Married,” Kirk replied dryly.

“I am aware; I was at the wedding after all. I mean have you talked to him recently?”

“No, Sam’s always busy so I haven’t had a chance to catch up.”

“Ah, well raising a family will keep you busy.” He finished bagging up Kirk’s items, putting the wine bottle in a thin paper bag. Kirk paid him and started to gather up her haul when she heard him chuckle.

“What?”

“You cut your hair,” he stated.

Kirk ran her hands through her newly cut hair, which she was still getting used to. She had always had it at the shortest shoulder-length, but not long after her birthday she opted for a change and had gotten a pixie cut.

“Yeah, thought I’d try something new, figured it’d be a good chance with the summer on the way.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, with your hair cut that short, and in your brother’s old shirt, you are the spitting image of your father.”

Kirk wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Physically speaking she had always taken after her father (her mother liked to describe her as ‘sturdy’), but most of her life she had been compared to her mother; both women had a sarcastic sense of humor, a quick temper if provoked, and a knack for finding trouble. Her brother in contrast had inherited their mother’s more delicate looks and their father’s more cautious and gentle nature.

“Pretty sure dad had at least a foot and a half on me physically,” Kirk finally managed, giving a tight smile, “guy was built like a brick wall.”

“That he was,” Garrovick agreed. “That’ll be $36.41 by the way.” Kirk paid him and stuffed her haul in her bag as best she could. She waved a quick goodbye to David, who responded in kind, walked out to her bike still waiting untouched on the curb. She plugged in her ear buds and put her PADD’s music on shuffle, _A Million Ways_ starting up as she pulled away from Garrovick’s place.

 _Now it seems I'm lost_  
Maybe I forgot  
What it is that I  
Really want

Kirk was caught in a strange mix of nostalgia and excitement as she rode through the town. On the one hand her mind was picking apart exactly how she would use her new equipment to try and respond to the signal she picked up; on the other, Garrovick had stirred up memories of her father, and it hit her in that moment just how much she missed him.

 _I bet you would’ve loved all this Dad_ , Kirk thought to herself as she peddled out of the main town and down the deserted backroad towards her house. He was to blame for her alien obsession ultimately; when she had started expressing interest in space and astronomy as a kid, her father was more than happy to indulge her. Staying up late on Sunday nights to watch the newest episodes of _The X-Files_ were some of her most nostalgic memories, and to this day Kirk was very much an _X-Files_ addict.

Kirk entered her family’s property and slowed to a stop as she reached the front of her house. When she was little she used to think their modest two-story farmhouse was like a mansion; growing up it seemed to be just the right size for a small town family of four. Now that is was just her and her mother it had begun to feel like a mansion again. Kirk wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

As she brought her bike up onto the porch she was greeted with barking inside the house. She smiled as she opened the door, her Russell Terrier pawing at her legs and sniffing her bag excitedly.

“Hey there Queequeg, did you miss me?” She bent down and gave the dog an equally enthusiastic scratching behind the ears. “I was only gone for five hours.” Queequeg paid no mind to Kirk’s words, only sniffing her bag curiously. “Hold on to your furry britches Mr. Needy, let me get inside first.”

Kirk walked past the stairs and into the living room, setting down her bag on the couch and rummaging through it until she pulled out the tiny costume. “I got something special for you,” she said in the kind of sing-song voice people only used with dogs. She held up the outfit for the dog to inspect. Queequeg sniffed it for a few seconds, gave Kirk a look that seemed to say ‘ _Yeah, right’_ , and promptly ran away.

“Hey get back here you little shit!”

After a bit of coercing with some dog treats she finally got the outfit on her reluctant pet. He looked utterly ridiculous; it was perfect. She spent the next few minutes doing an amateur photo shoot with her PADD and an increasingly indifferent Queequeg. Once she was satisfied with the pictures, Kirk chose her favorite and posted it to her Instagram with the captions _#confirmed_ and _#iwanttobelieve_. Once the picture was uploaded Kirk pulled out her phone and texted her mother.

_//what do u want 4 dinner 2night?\\\_

**_//Dinner’s on you. Pulling an all-nighter at work.\\\_ **

_//again?? don’t they keep u there enough?\\\_

**_//We got a catering job up in Iowa City, but Esteban couldn’t stay to cook tonight, so Robert asked if I could stay and help.\\\_ **

Kirk sighed and walked into the kitchen, still texting.

_//when do u think u will be home?\\\_

**_//Probably not until the morning. Think you can handle that?\\\_ **

_//mother please im an Adult_ _™_ _\\\_

A few moments later Kirk plopped down on the couch with a bowl of Rocky Road and her toolkit. She turned on the television and flipped through the channels before settling on some documentary on the 1960s era of music. She spent most of the evening tinkering with the various devices she had picked up from Garrovick’s shop. She managed to put together a device that hopefully, when hooked up to her pad and receiver, could send out a basic Morse code.

Kirk placed her newest creation on the coffee table in front of her and leaned back into the couch. Some dry historian on TV was prattling on about the lasting influence of The Beatles. The overhead fan was whirring to keep the heat at bay, squeaking every few rotations. In the kitchen she could hear Queequeg lapping up his water, then patter into the living room; she watched him walk by the couch and climb onto his bed.

Around eleven Kirk stretched out and sighed loudly. She cleaned up her work area, clicked off the TV, grabbed her PADD and new device, and made her way upstairs to her room. Mansions, she decided, were overrated.

Clicking on the light she went to lounge on her bed for a minute, using her PADD to send off an encrypted email to Uhura with a copy of the transmission she had showed her earlier. Once it went through she queued up some music on shuffle and made her way over to her window. There was an overhang right beneath her window where she and her brother used to stargaze; now she used to listen for extraterrestrial signals. Near the window was her receiver, which consisted of a crudely assembled satellite dish sitting on a repurposed Wi-Fi router.

Kirk carefully climbed out the window, pulling out all of her equipment once she was clear: her PADD, receiver, a pair of headphones, and her new signal transmitter. She settled against the wall of the house, hooked everything together, pointed her receiver skyward, and anxiously awaited the signal that had kept her company the past few nights.

 _Tonight’s the night_ , she thought. _Tonight’s the night everything changes._

The next three and a half hours of radio silence seemed to disagree with her.

After Kirk had to slap herself awake for the fifth time in an hour her enthusiasm had drained to critical levels. Usually, or at least the past few nights, the signal had come through by now. Maybe it was gone; left orbit back to the homeworld? Perhaps it had finished its business on this planet and was now on its way to get readings from Venus? Or Mars?

Or maybe it had just been another radio station…

Kirk slipped off her headphones, letting them hang around her neck, and sighed. She listened to her music wafting through the window from her room. The unmistakable of voice of Billie Joe was serenading her with an acoustic number she wasn’t familiar with.

 _These days into years roll by_  
It’s there that I live until I die  
Ordinary world

“Thank you Billie, you always know just what to say to brighten my mood,” Kirk remarked out loud to herself as her spirits sank deeper. She had been so sure this time, so close, and now it was looking like a pipe dream all over again. Once more she had gotten her hopes up for something amazing to change the mundane rhythm her life had fallen into, and once more it seemed to slip right through her fingers. Perhaps she was doomed to an ordinary world after all. She tried to listen to the rest of the lyrics but that static sound from her headphones was distracting her from hearing-

Kirk jolted upright and almost completely dropped her PADD in an attempt to get a better look at it. Her PADD was lit up with the strange calligraphy again, this time even more of it coming through at an accelerated rate. The signal appeared to have returned, and it was stronger than ever.

“Yes!” Kirk couldn’t help but cry out at finally seeing the return of the mystery transmission. She put her headphones back on, began recording the signal on her PADD, and grabbed her transmitter. As she anxiously waited for a break in the transmission, she suddenly came to an embarrassing realization: she had no idea what to say.

Uhura had suggested the Morse code and of course Kirk knew it practically better than English, but what was she supposed to _say_ with it? What does one even say in this situation? _And why didn’t I think of this hours ago goddammit Kirk shit like this is why they never let you on the prom planning committee-_

There was finally a lull in the transmission, so Kirk crossed her fingers, and began to send out a brief transmission of her own. She settled on something a touch more dignified then “hey what’s up”:

*Greetings*

If she had crossed her wires correctly, the signal had hopefully found its way towards whatever she had been receiving from. Kirk held her breath as her transmission showed up on her PADD underneath the last incoming transmission. For a moment, there was nothing. After a few tense moments, another incoming signal showed up on her PADD. This one seemed shorter, and stopped after only a moment; a response? Kirk sent another transmission:

*Who are you?*

Once again another brief transmission came through, seemingly in response. Kirk almost felt idiotic for her second transmission because of course she wouldn’t understand the answer, but it _answered_. It was responding to her transmissions. She had done it; she had made contact with…someone? Something?

*Do you come in peace?*

She was answered by yet another short transmission. Kirk was in the process of figuring out what to say next when suddenly the transmission started up again, even quicker than before. She noticed some of the symbols were repeating themselves. She didn’t wait for a break in the signal this time.

*Are you okay?*

The transmission didn’t stop; in fact if she didn’t know any better she’d say it seemed to be getting frantic. Kirk’s eyes furrowed with worry. It had never come through like this before. She adjusted her grip on her PADD, and flinched when she realized how hot it had gotten. Was the signal overloading her PADD? She made an attempt to respond:

*I can’t understand you, are you in trou-*

Her PADD blacked out with a pitiful _pop_. For a moment Kirk was too shocked to move. She pressed a few buttons in a vain hope of reviving her device. “No,” she breathed, still in shock, “no no no no nO NO NO!” Not only had she just lost her best form of communication, but she had also lost the record of the new transmission.

“Fuck!” Kirk wanted to throw something. She almost wanted to cry. Hours of patience had finally paid off, and in an instant it had been torn from her. She leaned back against the house. The night was quiet except for some distant crickets and her music that was still coming through the window, now playing some indistinguishable rock song she didn’t bother trying to identify. It was as if the past few minutes hadn’t even happened.

Kirk looked up towards the night sky, silently wondering which deity’s alter she had pissed on to earn this kind of karma. As she debated over whether she should just stay up the rest of the night or try and get a few hours of sleep before the sun came up, she eyed a particularly bright star twinkling on the horizon. _What the hell_ , she thought with a bitter smile, _can’t make my luck any worse_. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and made a wish.

She opened her eyes and tried to locate the star again, but when she did it appeared to have changed position. Was it that bright a second ago? Kirk slowly stood up, keeping an eye on her wishing star. Okay, it was not her imagination; the star was getting brighter and… bigger? Kirk leaned back through her window and into her room to grab her binoculars, which she kept handy by her window ever since she started spending time out there. By the time she turned back the ‘star’ had become even brighter and was no longer twinkling as much as it was flickering. Kirk looked through her binoculars and almost didn’t register what she was seeing.

The star was not a star; something physical was burning up in the atmosphere.

“Oh my God,” Kirk marveled out loud to herself as she transitioned between viewing the object with and without her binoculars. Not only had the object entered the atmosphere, it appeared to be on a trajectory towards her general vicinity. At this rate it could land in a nearby city.

“Oh my _God_ ,” she muttered as she hoisted herself onto the overhang above her window and scrambled to the very top of the roof to get a better view of where the object would land. It was close enough to be seen by the naked eye now, and Kirk’s mind was running a mile a minute. Could this be what had been sending out the signals? Had something gone wrong? Was it just some coincidence some UFO was about to crash land nearby her? She eyed the object as it drew closer; watching it grow in size as it rapidly approached the ground. It was starting to look like it could land in the next county over, or even close to town, or maybe even-

“Oh, my GOD!” Kirk ducked her head as the object hurtled over her, barely missing her house. Amidst the panic of almost getting blown off the face of the Earth by a supposed flying saucer Kirk made a mental note to get her depth perception checked. She crawled up to the very top of the house and looked over to find the object landed only a few acres away, which could very well be part of her property. The impact had been loud, and apparently powerful; though her house was a fair ways away from any neighbors she could hear the distant sounds of car alarms going off.

Kirk decided not to waste any time. She quickly slid down the roof and scrambled back through her window into her room, only barely remembering to bring in her equipment, and slid it shut. Once in the room she rummaged around her desk (which if Kirk was being honest was basically a glorified shelf) until she found a flashlight. Deciding her t-shirt, plaid, and jeans were perfectly suitable to investigate a possible alien invasion in, she only took a moment to exchange her sneakers for more practical hiking boots.

She almost flew down the stairs in anticipation. “You stay here Queequeg,” she told her dog, who apparently hadn’t even been bothered to leave his bed even with all the commotion. Kirk guessed that being an Instagram model for a day had gone to his head. She smiled at the passing thought and headed out the door to investigate the crash. Graciously there was a decently lit moon out that night, adding a little extra light as she made her way towards the crash site.

As it turned out the object had indeed landed on her property. The impact had created a crater the size of a large pond. Kirk approached cautiously, moving her light over the crater to inspect it. Once the light found the point of impact she got her first look at what the object really was.

While it wasn’t a flying saucer per se, it did appear to be some kind of ship. It looked to be a shuttle of some sort, about the size of a small airplane, but with far more compartment space. She could also see enough to see that it had landed on its side; or at the very least it appeared that way to her. It was badly damaged, Kirk noting all the kinks and dents in the hull, but surprisingly intact for just having crash landed. The ground around it was still steaming from the impact, and even Kirk could feel some heat radiating from the crash.

Kirk, however, was not really one to think about little things like “potential radiation poisoning from strange space objects” or “long-term consequences”, and made her way to the bottom of the crater for a closer look.

She walked steadily closer and scanned the ship with her flashlight until it illuminated an area that looked like a hatch on the top (what probably should have been the side) of the shuttle. Nothing appeared to be stirring yet, so Kirk moved forward until she was right next to it. She used the back of her hand to gage how hot it was, moving it progressively closer until it was touching the hull. Confusingly it was cool to the touch, or at least not scorching hot like she expected. At this discovery, Kirk’s brain finally hit the _Fuck It_ point, and she climbed on top of the crashed vessel.

It took a bit of maneuvering to keep her flashlight with her while she found a way to the top, but somehow she managed to get herself seated against one of the small wings. She continued investigating with her flashlight, and noticed writing along the side. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be the same kind of calligraphy that she had been receiving in her signals. Kirk swallowed as a terrifying thought crossed her mind: had her signal caused the ship to crash?

She carefully scooted over to the door she had spotted; to what end she wasn’t sure yet. What would she find inside: a mangled alien corpse? Or maybe the ship was some kind of automated probe and there was no one inside at all? Kirk found herself hoping for the latter, as she couldn’t imagine anything surviving a landing like that-

The door opening suddenly tore her from her thoughts. She cried out in surprise, dropping her flashlight and almost falling off herself. She crawled back and braced herself for anything. What came out was not exactly what she had expected.

Through the open door a surprisingly human-like figure began to pull themself out. They had their back to Kirk and apparently hadn’t noticed her presence yet. Kirk noted the figure seemed to be male, wearing what almost looked a thin grey poncho, and odd but neatly cut hair. As the stranger began to turn, Kirk’s breath caught as she noticed his ears: pointed, almost like an elf from Lord of the Rings. Then the stranger turned further and saw her.

Kirk froze as their eyes met; she only began to slowly breathe again when she realized he seemed just as surprised to see her as she did him. They eyed each other for a few moments before Kirk decided to act.

“Hey, what’s up?” was all that came out of her mouth while she waited for her brain to catch up with the rest of her. She raised her hand and gave a weak wave.

The stranger tilted his head slightly. “Na'shaya,” he responded. He raised his hand and made a V-shaped gap between his middle and ring finger.

“Come again?” Kirk blurted out. The stranger only continued to stare, hand still raised. Kirk glanced at her own hand and attempted to mimic the hand sign; it took a few moments but she managed to replicate the stranger’s greeting. “Like this?” she asked, holding it up for him to see.

The stranger didn’t smile, but he nodded in apparent approval and lowered his hand. “Vi nam-tor du?”

Kirk gave a helpless shrug. “Uh, sorry, I can’t- I don’t understand.”

The stranger attempted to fully pull himself out of the hatch, but suddenly cried out and curled in on himself. “Whoa, are you okay?” Kirk asked, moving forward instinctively. She grabbed his arm and started helping him out, which ended up taking more effort than she had anticipated; he was slim but surprisingly heavy. Somehow she managed to pull him up out of the hatch and on top of the shuttle.

“Nash-veh vesh' dash-tor,” he managed, though he was breathing heavily now.

“Sure, whatever you say buddy,” said Kirk. She tried to help him up, but he batted her hand away and looked down at his torso. Kirk followed his eyes and her stomach dropped. There appeared to be something sticking out of his stomach and Kirk had a sneaking suspicion that it was not a normal part of his anatomy, alien or not.

“Shit, you’re hurt!” Kirk attempted to get a better look at the injury, which proved difficult without her flashlight. “Okay, let’s just try and get you down from here.” She grabbed under his arms and attempted to pull him back and upright…

…when she promptly lost her footing and fell off the shuttle and onto the ground, dragging the stranger down with her. The two of them landed on their backs, side by side. Kirk groaned and rolled onto her side. Through force of will she got herself up and over to the stranger, who hadn’t moved. She grabbed him and maneuvered him until he was upright against the ship; still no response.

“Hey, buddy, you still with me?” She gave his face a few gentle slaps, which seemed to do the trick. He groaned and opened his eyes. Kirk looked around the ground until she spotted her fallen flashlight. “Wait here,” she instructed, hoping her tone and body language would be enough to get her point across. She grabbed her flashlight and turned back toward the stranger. The sight almost made her drop it again.

What looked to be metal shrapnel was sticking out of the lower left side of his abdomen. The stranger’s face, now properly lit, was covered in cuts and scrapes, all of the injuries having a green tone to them. Kirk looked down at her own hands and sure enough, they too were covered in green.

“Holy fuck,” she muttered to herself. She moved closer and knelt in front of the stranger. Their eyes met again. Kirk eyed the injuries again and tried to think of the next best course of action. A hospital? The closest one was at least ten miles away. Take him back to the house and help him there? No, she didn’t know the first thing about injuries as serious as this, she’d end up killing him faster. Bones? No, his home phone was disconnected and he’s never bothered with a cellphone; although, his place was only a mile and a half away if she took a shortcut-

Kirk looked up from her thoughts as fingers brushed her face. The stranger was giving her a strange look as his hand cupped the side of her face. “Nahp, hif-bi tu throks.”

“I still don’t understa-”

_Something is wrong. Warning lights and alarms are going off. The power reserves are failing. You are losing altitude rapidly. You are entering the atmosphere. Panic is beginning to seep in. No, there is no place currently for panic; find a solution. Navigation is working. Follow the signal. Engines are failing. Shields are only barely online. You’ve come this far. You have to try to find her. System failure. What hit you? Impact imminent. Brace for impa-_

Kirk tore away with a gasp. “What the _fuck_?” She felt like her brain just went through a blender. She took a moment to put herself together and looked up again. The stranger had fallen unconscious again. “Hey, you still with me?” She gave his face a few light slaps; nothing. She looked down at his wound again; it looked as nasty as when she first shined her light on it.

Bones; she had to get him to Bones. It was the best solution under the circumstances. He would give her hell for waking him in the middle of the night but she’d make it up to him somehow. The real tricky part would how to get the stranger there in one piece. After some evaluating and delicate maneuvering as so not to aggravate the wound, she managed to arrange him on her back fireman-carry style. She made a mental note to come back for her flashlight, which she left on the ground in lieu of using most of her concentration on not dropping the load on her back.

Kirk almost couldn’t believe this was really happening. She was running through acres of farmland with an injured alien on her back to her friend’s house in the middle of the goddamn night after said alien crash landed on her property; it sounded like the beginning of a really bad sci-fi novel. She kept moving. Whatever happened when he had touched her face, whatever connection that had been made, she had felt what kind of person he was; and ultimately he was someone who didn’t deserve to die like this. She ran until she came across the familiar house of her friend. She kicked the door a few times and waited. After a moment of no response she gave it a few more kicks.

“Bones! Open up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Na'shaya - Greetings  
> Vi nam-tor du? - Who are you?  
> Nash-veh vesh' dash-tor - I have been injured  
> Nahp, hif-bi tu throks - Your thoughts, give them to me
> 
> So this is the first chapter that has a partial soundtrack to it. As this fic is ultimately going to be a roadtrip fic (we'll get there don't worry), I figure every good roadtrip needs a playlist. Songs in this chapter include:
> 
> Last of the American Girls - Green Day  
> A Million Ways - Cheerleader  
> Ordinary World - Green Day
> 
> Hopefully including the lyrics like this isn't too distracting; if it's not I plan to incorporate the rest of the songs in various points through he story (probably not three per chapter though, more typically one or two every other chapter).
> 
> Next chapter we'll be picking up where we left off at the end of the first chapter, back in Bones' house, and where we get more of the plot promised in the summery.

**Author's Note:**

> Vulcan Translations:  
> Ra shi nam-tor nash? - What is this place? (roughly)  
> Ri tor ken-tor - I do not understand


End file.
